Unwanted and Necassary Memories
by Wired Heart
Summary: McGonagall finds something from her past to which she has been attempting to avoid - which she can no longer do.
1. Alarming Discoveries

Disclaimer: I own nothing in this fic, because I am not (as much as I can pretend to be) the glorious J.K. Rowling. Everything in this story is copy right to her and WB and etc. Any copy right infringement was not intended, etc. etc. The lyrics to the song "Hurt" are (I suppose) copyright to Nine Inch Nails and were later fabulously redone by none other than Johnny Cash. Yay. (the lyrics are only used in the last chapter - might I add)  
  
Author's Notes: Credits for this story are to; a fic I can't find any more, the Harry Potter lexicon and my bathtub. (Sitting in a bathtub with a laptop is where this fic was written, if you're curious) Ah yes, this story is set the summer before Harry's 6th year, although that's not entirely that important.  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
It was the same every year, the cleaning process, I mean.  
  
McGonagall had had the same office since the day she become a teacher at Hogwarts, and it showed. The room was piled with homework assignments and book, a large oak desk sat neatly in a corner with a small circle of stuffy red and gold chairs and finally across one wall was a large display of certificates, awards and a large Gryffindor lion was displayed on the same wall.  
  
She was doing her yearly cleaning, and this year especially it was needed. The term was to start in a few weeks, and she still had many of the assignments of last year and a few things she'd never need again.  
  
She started off with the obvious; the piles of assignments from students, apologies for inexcusable behaviour and of course, the inevitable letters from parents. McGonagall sifted threw these with ease; sure, there were many of them. But they went into two categories: Important and Garbage. One of her biggest rules when sorting through the past years debris was not to keep much. In her first years, she hadn't and then three years into this job, she'd discovered all of her filings full of age-old papers and things that no long mattered in the least. So she'd tossed them all, and started with this new principal.  
  
Done with that, she emptied her trash was a flick of her wand. Next was the harder one. She turned to the large shelving unit, which held books that students she had needed - or were of some interest and/or use to her at Hogwarts. On the top shelves were the oldest, that had been useful to her in years gone by. She glanced threw the titles and pulled one she couldn't remember what it was about. She let it fall open, and something fell onto the floor, face down.  
  
She lifted it, and placed it onto her desk, and stared at it. On the back there was a messy scrawl - certainly not her own neat crisp writing.  
  
Minerva,  
  
Our last two years have been good. I'll miss you, a lot. Hope to see you soon, I guess.  
  
Love,  
  
Evan  
  
She collapsed into her chair, her fingers shaking uncontrollably as she stared at the writing. She was much to scared to flip it over - she was almost positive what sight would greet her if she did.  
  
She bit her lip and flipped the picture over and let it land on her desk. 


	2. Old Snapshots

Disclaimer: I don't know any of this - just the plot. All is copyrighted to the god o' Hogwarts: JK Rowling.  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
McGonagall stared at the picture, for that was indeed what it was, and memories rushed at her from all angles.  
  
The picture, a regular black and white moving picture was of two young people. On the left, was a man. He was tall and in-shape, his white teeth gleamed as he waved at the camera with a wide hand, he was good-looking and turned to wink at the woman on the left. The woman was a few inches shorter than he was, with cropped hair and a broad smile. She was smiling widely, and laughing as well - but her eyes were seemed un-laughing and serious.  
  
The woman who sat in the chair stared at her younger self, with disbelief - she could've sworn she'd lost all the pictures, or even destroyed them when she had found out.  
  
Evan Rosier was a name Minerva McGonagall had never wanted to hear ever again in her entire life. He had been in the same year as her, at Hogwarts, a Slytherin. She had known his past, and probably even been able to guess his future - but she ignored it. She had been foolhardy and young; excited to be doing something that wasn't by the books for once. He had treated her well - waiting for her at the library when she studied for exams that weren't coming for months, gave her presents on all the right occasions.  
  
They had said a sad goodbye at the end of their 7th year. Minerva very interested in Transfiguration had gone off to study it in Australia.  
  
Whenever she thought back to it, she realized she had had no idea where Evan was going. He said he was going to "fallow his heart" and had kissed her a final goodbye.  
  
She had never seen him again - she had sent a few futile owls, but her owl always returned with the letter, for it had been unable to find him. Slowly, she had forgotten about Evan.  
  
Forgotten her first relationship, forgotten the first, and one of the last times, times she had bended the rules.  
  
The elder Minerva sat in her chair, starring at the image, thinking of the many, many years that had come after this picture was taken. 


	3. The years that came

Minerva thought of the years that would fallow her graduation of Hogwarts and most specifically what had become of Evan.  
  
Evan would, as she found out so many years after, become a Death Eater. The thought still haunted her, of the things she had done with someone who would destroy lives later in her life, many of them not very appropriate.   
  
She had talked to Moody and had lightly asked him about his capture of Evan Rosier, not trying to imply anything. He had grinned and informed her that the chunk missing out of his was taken by non other than Mr. Rosier.  
  
The thought of this let a shudder down her spine, because it seemed so preposterous to her. Yes, when she had gone to Hogwarts with him, he'd been obsessed with the Dark Arts, friends with a crowd of almost entirely future-Death Eaters, but nothing else suggested his fate.   
  
She could easily recall getting his last form of contact. It had been the winter of 1979, and it was a short letter with a small package. When she shut her eyes, she could still see the parchment.  
  
Minerva,  
  
I know I'll regret sending this letter – but I feel I must. I am nearly 60 years old, and I have made a few mistakes in my life and put many innocent people in danger. Including you. The Ministry of Magic is on my trail, for reasons I don't care to express with you in this letter. They will, indubitably, search my house and could have found the enclosed pictures. I don't want to put in you in any form of danger – you deserve more than that.   
  
Yours always,  
  
Evan  
  
She remembered reading it a thousand times, crying out (and alarming someone upstairs – she was, by this time, teaching at Hogwarts) and throwing it into the fire. The pictures, which were all that was enclosed, along with some notes she'd written him at Hogwarts.   
  
Another memory was resurfacing, the memory of not accepting the letter. It didn't sound like Evan, Evan had always used simply words – this didn't sound like him at all. But she had gotten over it, and forgotten about it.   
  
But the forgotten stage did not last long, almost an exact year after she'd received his owl; she heard news that they'd gotten two Death Eaters at once. Two Death Eaters by the names of Alfred Wilkes and Evan Rosier. This had sent her into an extreme state.   
  
She bit her lip at the horrible memory of having to teach, and go on like normal, as she had found out her first (and last) boyfriend was a murder, a follower of Voldemort. It had been hard, but she had done it.   
  
The pictures he had sent her had slowly fallen into the cracks of her life, finding their ways into the garbage until finally she found them all and burnt them. Or so she thought.   
  
Now there was this one, one of the most memorable pictures, sitting here. Somehow she'd shoved the picture into a book and continued on and now here it was, back to haunt her.   
  
She was jerked back to reality when she heard someone walking by her office door, and found that the photograph was back on the desk – the picture side down.   
  
"Minerva," she thought to herself, "Pull yourself together."  
  
- - - - - - - -   
  
Authors Note: This is *not* the ending, by the way. I just had a bit of a bother with the Creativity Demon and the suspense wasn't there for this chapter-ending. Sorry.^.-  
  
Hot damn, I got a review, which is a first – especially considering I've never written fanfics before. Ah well. 


	4. Acquiescence

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, yada yada.  
  
Authors Note: We will ignore the fact that 'Hurt' came out in 1994, and McGonagall went to Hogwarts in the 30s. Hemhem. Oh; and we'll pretend that Snape and Rosier are somehow both the same age as James Potter AND Minerva McGonagall. Plot holes be damned!  
  
- - - -  
  
McGonagall stood up at once, returning to her normal self. There was no point moping about, thinking about the past so constantly! The whole relationship with Evan Rosier had been nearly 60 years ago, and she'd managed to swamp it over with other things.  
  
And here it was again. She sighed, staring at the picture and then turned and dropped it into her garbage. She decided to take a break for tea, maybe visit Poppy - who was certainly getting ready as well, for the plausible ailments the students could face.  
  
Perhaps she could even persuade Poppy for a bit walk around, and maybe a discussion. Something, anything, to clear her head, as she didn't want to think of these things any more, maybe even a Gillywater at the Three Broomsticks.  
  
She grabbed her cloak of the lion-clawed coat rack and was about to leave when realization dawned on her.  
  
Quickly, she whirled around and reached into the garbage where the picture lay. She slid it into her pocket and decided that there was no point denying it now, denying what had happened for 6 whole years of her life, for he had been a very prominent member of her life.  
  
She had even found a few diaries years ago, and nearly every page had mention of him, and of course mention of the schoolwork, mention of all the other goings-on that occurred at Hogwarts.  
  
She pulled the picture out once more, and stared at it. She remembered a song that Evan had sung. It was a Muggle song, and somehow as she stared at the picture she felt drawn to it.  
  
What have I become?  
  
My sweetest friend  
  
Everyone I know goes away  
  
In the end  
  
She remembered thinking back on the days of Evan - how she couldn't imagine why she'd been with him for so long.  
  
What had she become? She mouthed to herself, thinking upon herself. brOf course, she had aged many years. She'd never thought of herself as a liar, and really that's what she had become. Not to any one else, as no one had known about Evan. But she hadn't exactly told any one about it.  
  
Everyone she knew did go away. The thought about the crowd of people, other than Evan, that she'd known at Hogwarts. Poppy was a few years her junior and was in her second year when Minerva had graduated. No one else was left from her teenage years, really. She'd personally destroyed it all. She was ashamed, and embarrassed to admit it too.  
  
She took out the picture of Evan once more, and stared at it defiantly.  
  
No use hiding it any more. She stalked out her office, head in the air, feeling slightly haughty. She found Poppy, as she had assumed in the Hospital Wing, getting cards ready for the new batch of students.  
  
"Poppy," She said, tapping her, "Do you remember Evan Rosier when he was at school?"  
  
A/N: So, uh, R/R.  
  
This is NOT the ending. If you read the previous version, you'll see a "this is the end" at the end. I lied, 'cause I can do that. So, pretty much I'm writing more. Be up soon. R/R because I'm a review-whore. By the way, Evan Rosier is an actual character mentioned/created by JKR. But I'm sure you knew this. 


	5. Being Confronted

Disclaimer: If you think I own any of the below mentioned people, then you're insane. They live with JKR and I only borrow them for tea on the weekends.  
  
Authors Note: Read the entire authors note at the end. I responded to some reviews and cleared the 'whose Evan Rosier?' situation up. (;  
  
Poppy whirled around, blinking a couple of times at her. She had a slightly calculating look in her eyes, like she was thinking hard of how to answer.  
  
"Evan Rosier?" She said, putting down the card she was holding, "Slytherin? Your age, if I remember correctly? Didn't he turn out to be a Death Eater?" She asked.  
  
"Y-yes." She smiled again, "Is that all you remember of him?" Her voice was slightly stiff, and awkward which was a first for her.  
  
"Weren't you two good friends?" She asked, thinking hard, "God, I never was fully aware of how many years apart we really were!" She said, laughing slightly.  
  
McGonagall grimaced; she'd been thinking the same thing. "We were." She looked around, making sure there was no one else around, "Much more than good friends." She paused, noting the shocked reaction of Poppy, "I admit, I have told no one else. I did not remember it until this after noon."  
  
Poppy smiled slyly, "You, Minerva McGonagall, had a boyfriend?" She paused and then her eyes fell, "Oh Minerva - I'm so sorry, I forgot Mr. Rosier's fate."  
  
Minerva shook her head, "It is not matter. I just mentioned him because I realized that although we are close friends, I've never talked about Evan."  
  
"You're right - you have not. Come to think of it, Minerva, you have not told me a thing about your Hogwarts friends. I'm sure you had some?"  
  
"Oh yes, of course I did. All of them Gryffindors, with the exception of Evan, I'd readily admit."  
  
"Minerva, would it seem like I was prying if I asked you how you got to be with Evan Rosier! He's a Slytherin! And I do remember that he took a fond liking to the Dark Arts." She frowned at McGonagall, "He tried to hex me on my first day!" She added, almost as a side note to herself.  
  
"I don't know how it started." She said shortly.  
  
But then her face relaxed, "No, I can't say that. I was 12, well on my way to being a model student, very studious I was." She said, her eyes glazing over as she remembered this, "I did everything by the books. And then a dorm-mate's twin sister, in Slytherin introduced me to Evan, not thinking that anything would happen. Evan was very different than anyone I knew, all my friends studied hard, had good grades and the teachers loved them. Evan wasn't moronic, but he wasn't a genius. And he didn't try in class at all. We got to know each other, and around Easter he asked me to visit him in the summer. I accepted, and things went on from there." McGonagall said, trailing off a bit at the end, her eyes not seeing the Hospital Wing - she was in an obvious reverie.  
  
"Oh dear. Minerva, forgive me for saying this - but I cannot imagine you going out with any one! A future Death Eater no less." She paused and then looked alarm, "Minerva! You didn't keep any information from the Ministry, did you?" She cried, most distraught.  
  
"No, of course not Poppy." She said, looking shocked, "He only contacted me once outside of Hogwarts. It was a goodbye and had a few pictures." She paused and then reached into her pocket and slid out the picture and handed it to Poppy. "That was our last day together, the day we graduated." She said with a remorseful sigh.  
  
"You said pictures? Do you have more than one? Oh, Minerva forgive my curiosity it's just this is something you've never talked of. And you know how nosy I can get." She smiled, "Especially since I am not allowed to do so with my patients." She said - this had been a private joke between the two for a while, the reasoning Poppy always gave when she dug for answers from friends.  
  
"There were more. But I. lost them. But I did find them once." She paused and looked slightly remorseful, "But I burnt them." She said very quickly.  
  
"Why on earth did you do that Minerva?" Poppy cried, looking shocked.  
  
Why indeed. McGonagall had to admit; this was a very good question.  
  
- - -  
  
Authors Note; EVAN ROSIER. He is dead. Dead dead dead. You know this from GoF when Harry goes into the penseive and sees Karakoff's trial. He is a name he mentions to get out of Azkaban, but was -killed- by Moody. There is no more Evan. And no, I won't be cliché and bring him back anyways. Bwahahaha.  
  
Also kudos to Quiteona for the ideas to continue the fic - YAR! There's more coming, if you can't tell. Woo!  
  
Read. Review again if you've only done so once. Comment! Critique! Help! But just don't diss Ryan Turner. (a.k.a.; member of the cast of Brendan Leonard Show, a.k.a.; my future husband) 


End file.
